Just Here To Post

Just trying to get better at art and writing and stuff. Feel free to ask or request. F25. Occasional +18.

[justheretop0st]

Inbox Open!

Hello! My inbox is open for writing requests. As of April 2025!!

Please feel free to request from the following:

Skyrim

Dead by daylight

Harry Potter

Death Note

Apex Legends

Please read rules below!

I’d ask for:

some type of theme or prompt

X reader

Character x Character

AU!reader or AU!character <— as such

Cool extras could include:

Songs

Pictures-> fan art and such

Maybe a poem

Good to goes:

Platonic

Romantic

Angst

Fluff

AU!’s

Very basic and general stuff

Maybes:

NSFW> generally ok with writing anything but I’ll list no-no’s below

Stalking

Detailed Death> generally, I will write about death, but I don’t usually care to go into detail of the death. Aftermath is usually my focus

No’s:

NSFW such as-

Gore

Rape

Underage and the like

Any potty play

However, I would ask that any requester understand that I will decline if warranted. I am generally open to most things as I want to expand my writings.

Thank you for making it this far!

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

💀 Making Your Villain Make Sense (Without Making Them Right™)

("because if I see one more war criminal with a sad diary entry get a redemption arc, I’m gonna throw my laptop.")

Here’s the thing: your villain doesn’t need to be redeemable. But they do need to make sense.

And I mean sense beyond "they’re evil and they monologue about it." Or “they have a tragic past, so now they do murder <3.” Or “they were right all along, the hero just couldn’t see it 🥺.”

Let’s fix that.

─────── ✦ ───────

🧠 STEP ONE: BUILD A LOGIC SYSTEM THAT ISN’T OURS Your villain shouldn’t just be wrong, they should have their own internal system that works for them. Morally flawed? Absolutely. But coherent.

Ask yourself:

What do they value more than anything? (Power? Order? Loyalty? Vengeance?)

What do they believe about the world, and how did they get there?

What fear drives them? What future do they think they’re trying to prevent?

The villain doesn’t need to know they’re wrong. But you should.

Make their logic airtight. even if it’s awful. Give them cause and effect.

─────── ✦ ───────

👿 STEP TWO: STOP GIVING THEM THE BETTER IDEOLOGY Listen. I love a “morally gray” moment as much as anyone. But if your villain is making all the good points and the hero’s just like “no because that’s mean,” your arc is upside down.

If your villain is critiquing injustice, oppression, or inequality, make sure their methods are the problem, not their entire worldview.

✖︎ WRONG: Villain: “The ruling class is corrupt.” Hero: “That’s not nice.”

✔︎ RIGHT: Villain: “The ruling class is corrupt, so I’m burning the city and everyone in it.” Hero: “So you’re just… committing genocide now?”

Your villain can touch a real issue. Just don’t let them be the only one talking about it, or solving it with horror movie logic.

─────── ✦ ───────

🔪 STEP THREE: GIVE THEM POWER THAT COSTS THEM The best villains lose things too. They’re not just untouchable horror dolls in sexy coats. They make bad choices and pay for them. That’s where the drama lives.

Examples:

They isolate themselves.

They sacrifice people they love.

They get what they want, and it destroys them.

They know they’re the monster, and choose it anyway.

If your villain can kill a dozen people and feel nothing, that’s not scary. That’s boring. Let them bleed. Let them regret it. Let them double down anyway.

─────── ✦ ───────

🧱 STEP FOUR: MAKE THEM PART OF THE WORLD, NOT OUTSIDE IT Villains shouldn’t feel like they were patched in from another genre. They should be part of the world’s logic, culture, class system, history. They should reflect something about the setting.

Villains that slap:

The advisor who upheld the regime until they decided they deserved to rule.

The noble who’s using war to reclaim stolen legacy.

The ex-hero who thinks the system can’t be saved, only reset.

The priest who truly believes the gods demand blood.

They’re not just evil, they’re a product of the same world the hero is trying to save.

─────── ✦ ───────

👁 STEP FIVE: SHOW US THEIR SELF-JUSTIFICATION You don’t need a tragic backstory™. But you do need to show us why they think they’re right. Not just with exposition, through action.

Let us watch them:

Protect someone.

Choose their goal over safety.

Justify the unjustifiable to a character who loves them.

Refuse to change, even when given a chance.

A villain who looks into the mirror and goes “Yes. I’m correct.” is 1000x scarier than one who sobs into a journal and says “I’m so broken 🥺.”

─────── ✦ ───────

🧨 BONUS ROUND: DON’T MAKE THEM A HATRED MEGAPHONE Especially if you’re writing marginalized characters: don’t let your villain become a mouthpiece for slurs, abuse, or extremism just to make them “evil enough.” That’s lazy. And harmful.

You don’t need real-world hate speech to build a dark character. You need power, consequence, and intent.

─────── ✦ ───────

TL;DR: Good villains don’t need to be right. They need to be real. Not a vibe. Not a sad boy in a trench coat. Not a trauma monologue and then a sword fight. They need logic. They need cost. They need to scare you because you get them, and still want them to lose.

Make them dangerous. Not relatable. Make them whole. Not wholesome. Make them make sense.

—rin t. // thewriteadviceforwriters // villain critic. final boss consultant. licensed chaos goblin

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

5 Opening Pages Mistakes to Stop Making — A Mini eBook for Fiction Writers

✦ A free (and actually helpful) guide to leveling up your first 10 pages ✦If you're unsure whether your opening is ✨doing enough✨ to hook re

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

How about writing something along the lines of Sebastian and reader are rookie Aurora’s on their first day but there is just some difference in how they’re treated. Sebastian is treated like how’d you expect, barely achnowleged until he screws up and is paying a price for it. but somehow after all these years readers is still getting the ‘hero of hogwarts treatment’ it’s just little things like extra praise and telling them it’s okay they messed up with only minor consequences, as well as people offering to do their paperwork, etc. However it adds up after a week and Sebastian’s jealousy comes out as he confronts the reader about the special treatment they receive at work when they got home that night. (I like to think they got engaged quickly after hogwarts and either bought a place or kept the cottage in Feldcroft)

this may have taken a life of its own while pitching this.

Resentment | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

This was such a unique idea and I've never written something quite like this, thank you for the prompt anon! Honestly this took on a life of its own while I was writing it! I originally planned for a happy ending but...

Words: ~3,600

Tags: Post Hogwarts, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort

Sebastian had expected their first week as Aurors to be rough. Everyone had warned them that rookies were at the bottom of the food chain. No special treatment, no shortcuts. The senior Aurors wouldn’t be impressed by their Hogwarts accolades or their N.E.W.T. scores. If they wanted to prove themselves, they had to do it through sweat, blood, and resilience.

Sebastian was ready for that. He didn’t expect to be taken seriously right away.

But he hadn’t expected to be invisible.

He’d been shoved aside in field drills, barely acknowledged beyond curt instructions. The first time he made a mistake—misjudging a defensive maneuver and knocking over an entire stack of case files—he’d been chewed out in front of the entire team. "Sallow, if you can’t keep your footing, you can sit at a desk instead." The laughter that followed had burned like acid.

Fine. That was the treatment he’d expected. But you? You might as well have been walking on air.

It started small, little pats on the back after training, murmured praise when you completed routine spells, encouragement when you messed up, instead of the sharp reprimands Sebastian and the other rookies got. He saw senior Aurors smile at you, nod in approval, even laugh at your mistakes like they were endearing.

The first time you misfired a spell and nearly singed a superior’s robe, Sebastian had braced himself for the verbal lashing to come. Instead, the man just chuckled and waved it off. "Don’t worry about it, first week’s tough for everyone."

Sebastian had nearly snapped his wand in half right then and there.

It only got worse.

You had entire conversations with higher-ups that Sebastian could barely get two words out of. If you struggled in a training exercise, someone stepped in to help. When you had too much paperwork, someone offered to do it for you because you “had a long day”.

Sebastian had also had a long day.

He had been thrown to the ground three times in sparring practice, made to redo his reports twice, and had to stay late because no one cared that he had been exhausted.

And somehow, you didn’t even bat an eye at your special treatment.

By Friday, it was eating him alive.

The two of you apparated home after work and the golden light of sunset filtered through the windows of the cottage, casting warm hues over the stone walls.

It did nothing to soften Sebastian’s mood.

You sighed, rolling your shoulders. “That was exhausting. At least it’s the weekend.”

Sebastian didn’t move from the entryway. His fingers curled into his palms, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

You turned toward him, brows knitting together at his silence. "Seb?"

"...You're tired?"

You blinked at him, confused. “Yeah?”

He laughed. "From what?"

Your brow furrowed. “...From working all day? From training?”

Sebastian shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Right. Because that was so difficult for you, wasn’t it? Another long, exhausting day of getting praised for breathing, of having your arse wiped for you while the rest of us have to fend for ourselves?”

Your expression twisted in confusion, but it was starting to turn wary. “What are you talking about?”

He let out another short laugh, pacing across the room. His feet thudded against the wooden floor with each step, his frustration a storm building inside him.

"Oh, I don’t know," he snapped. "Maybe how every bloody Auror in that office treats you like royalty? How they praise you for the same things I get torn apart for? How you can make mistakes, and they just fix them for you?"

Your frown deepened. "Sebastian, it’s not like that."

"Isn’t it?" He turned to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest, shoulders taut with frustration. "Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to watch you get handed everything on a silver platter while I have to fight for every scrap of recognition?"

Your confusion tranformed into defensiveness. “I don’t get things handed to me, I work just as hard as you do.”

"Do you?" Sebastian took a step closer, staring you down. "Because it seems to me like every time you screw up, someone’s right there to clean up after you. You didn’t even have to do your own bloody paperwork today!"

"I didn’t ask for that," you replied, fighinting to keep your voice from wavering. "They just—"

"Exactly!" He cut you off, gesturing wildly. “People just do things for you! Do you even hear yourself?"

"Sebastian, please—"

But he wasn’t done. He was too angry to be done.

"You’ve had people worshipping you since we were fifteen," he went on, voice rising with every word. "And I get it, alright? I do! You saved Hogwarts, you saved the wizarding world, you’re the bloody Chosen One or whatever. But we left school, and this—this was supposed to be different!" His hand clenched into a fist at his side. "We both trained for this. We both earned our spots. But somehow, you’re still treated like the prodigy, and I’m still just another nobody!"

“That’s not fair,” you argued, "You’re not a nobody and you know that! And don’t act like I’ve had everything easy—I worked my arse off to be here just as much as you!"

Sebastian scoffed. “Oh, really? And what, exactly, have you had to prove? Because from what I can tell, you don’t have to prove a damn thing.”

Your patience snapped like a stretched wire. “Oh, I don’t know, Sebastian,” you shot back. “I think maybe the part where I fought a whole goddamn rebellion at fifteen is where I proved myself!”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed, his frustration only igniting further. “Yeah?” he snarled. “And what, does that give you a lifetime pass to never have to prove anything ever again?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it!"

"Bullshit," His tone was sharp, biting. "You waltz into the Ministry and everyone just assumes you’re brilliant, assumes you’re untouchable, assumes you’re better than the rest of us! Meanwhile, I have to claw my way up from the bottom and you just fucking watch!”

You gaped at him. “Assumes I'm brilliant? So what, you don't think I am?"

Sebastian barely felt the jab of your finger against his chest—his anger was a fire burning too hot to notice.

“Don’t twist my words,” he snapped, eyes flashing. “I know you’re brilliant. I’ve always known. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair. That doesn’t mean I should have to stand here and watch you get treated like the Ministry’s golden child while I get torn apart for breathing wrong!"

Your jaw clenched. “So what, you’re angry because you're... you're jealous? Because I get some slack?

Sebastian let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Some slack? Do you even hear yourself? They worship the ground you walk on! If you screw up, it’s, ‘Oh, no worries, you’ve had a long day.’ If I screw up? ‘Sallow, get your shit together or go push paperwork.’” His voice lowered into something cutting, something scathing. “Tell me, when’s the last time anyone told you to ‘get your shit together?’”

Your expression wavered, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Sebastian huffed. “Exactly.”

Your nostrils flared, and suddenly you were stepping forward, frustration rolling off you in waves. “You think I’ve had it easy? You think I haven’t fought for everything I have?”

Sebastian scoffed. “I think you fought when you were fifteen, and now you don’t have to anymore.”

Your breath left you in a sharp exhale, like he had struck you, but you weren’t backing down.

“Do you really think it was a privilege to be that person, Sebastian? Do you think I want to be the Ministry’s favorite war story? You think I should apologize for the fact that they won’t let me be anything else?”

Sebastian’s fingers twitched at his sides, but he had no words, only deep-seated resentment simmering beneath his ribs.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You have no idea what it’s like, do you?”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “Oh, here we go.”

You ignored him.

“You have no idea what it’s like to have people watch you all the time, waiting for you to be exactly who they expect you to be, who they want you to be. No idea what it’s like to walk into a room and have everyone already decided who you are.”

Sebastian’s temper flared. “I don’t know what it’s like?” he spat. “All anyone is waiting for me to do at work is fail. To be just like my uncle. To be some dangerous, reckless fuck-up who’d never amount to anything—”

“And yet,” you cut in, voice steel, “you still got to decide who you are, didn’t you? You still got to fight for yourself!”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak.

“I didn’t get that choice, Sebastian. My life was decided for me the moment I survived the rebellion. I could either be their war hero, or I could be a goddamn disappointment for not joining the Ministry."

The silence between you was suffocating. Sebastian’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling too fast. His pulse pounded in his ears.

You shook your head. “You think I enjoy this? That I wouldn’t trade all of it—every bit of the admiration, the praise, the ‘special treatment’—to just be normal?”

“Then why don’t you stop it?” Sebastian spat.

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Sebastian laughed. “That’s what I thought. Because you love it." The words came out low, scathing. "Don’t fucking lie to me. You love the attention, the admiration, the way people hang on your every word."

Sebastian should have stopped. Should have seen the way your hands clenched, how you sucked in a sharp breath like he had physically struck you, but he was too caught up in his own fury, too tangled in his own resentment, and he just kept going.

He was hurt, he was raw, and if he was bleeding, then so were you.

"So don’t stand there and act like you hate it, like you wouldn’t kill to keep it," he spat. "Because you’ve had years to change things, and yet, here you are—still letting everyone kiss the fucking ground you walk on. You love walking into a room and knowing everyone already adores you, already thinks you’re something larger than life. You love that when you fuck up, people look the other way. You love that no one ever questions you. That no one ever expects you to fail. That no one ever assumes the worst of you."

He let out a breathless, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Must be fucking nice."

You just stared at him, silent, unmoving. Sebastian wanted you to yell back, wanted you to scream at him, to tell him he was wrong, to argue, to fight. But you didn’t.

You just looked at him with something unreadable—something wounded, yes, but deeper than that. Something he couldn't name.

Sebastian’s stomach turned violently, the weight of what he had just said slamming into him all at once. His anger drained, leaving something hollow and sickening in its wake.

"Wait, I—"

But you had already taken a step back.

"You actually believe that, dont you?" You shook your head, exhaling slowly, as if something had finally, finally clicked into place. “You really, truly believe that.”

“No, that’s not true, I—”

“Spare me your goddamn excuses,” you cut him off, your eyes blazing now. “Don’t act like you haven’t spent the last ten minutes trying to tear me down just so you don’t have to sit with your own fucking feelings.”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I love you, Sebastian,” you cried. “But I won’t let you do this to me. Not now. Not ever. I will not stand here and be your fucking punching bag.”

“I—”

“You’re angry, I get that,” you cut him off, relentless now. “And you have every right to be! I get that this isn’t fair. It’s not fair that I get special treatment. It’s not fair that people are willing to overlook things for me that they’d never overlook for you. And it’s not fair that you’ve had to work twice as hard just to prove that you’re not your uncle.” You exhaled sharply, like saying it out loud was exhausting. “You’re right, Sebastian. And I’ll fix it. I’ll go in early on Monday, I’ll talk to them, I’ll address it. I’ll do whatever I can to make it right.”

You scrubbed a hand down your face, flicking unshed tears from your lashes, inhaling sharply as if forcing yourself to stay upright, to stay steady, to keep from breaking right here in front of him.

"But how fucking dare you stand there and tell me I wouldn’t fight for you the second I knew something was wrong? I have fought for you from the second I met you, and you know it. I have fought for you when no one else did, when no one else would. And this is what I get?!"

Sebastian felt the room tilt. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

He had been so sure—so damn sure—that if he just let everything out, if he got it all off his chest, if he made you see how fucking unfair it all was, then he’d feel better. But instead, he felt like he had just ripped open something vital. Like he had swung too hard, missed his mark, and severed something he hadn’t meant to touch.

"You—" He swallowed thickly, reaching for words that wouldn't come. "That's not what I—"

"Yes. It is," you cut in, voice quieter now. Flatter. "You said exactly what you meant."

Sebastian felt his stomach turn violently, bile burning at the back of his throat.

“No,” he rasped. “No, I—fuck, that’s not—please, just—”

"You think I want this?" Your voice cracked, the first fracture in the mask you had thrown up, but you didn’t let it break. "You think I want to be some fucking symbol, to have my entire life boiled down to a title I never even asked for?"

Sebastian's pulse thundered in his ears, his own voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean—"

"Then what did you mean, Sebastian?" You threw your hands up, voice raw, sharp enough to cut. "Because you just stood here and told me, to my face, that I love this. That I want it. That I eat up the praise, that I enjoy being put on a pedestal I never fucking climbed onto to begin with!"

Sebastian flinched. What could he say to that? How could he take back something he had already carved into the space between you?

You let out a breath—slow, controlled, like you were steadying yourself from the inside out.

"I have never—not once—made you feel like less of a person for what you’ve been through. I have never used your past against you. And I sure as hell have never thrown your worst fears in your face just to win an argument," You let out a humorless, breathless sound. "I would never do that to you, so why the fuck do you think it’s okay to do it to me?”

Sebastian felt those words like a strike to the chest—hard, unrelenting, leaving something cracked and aching in their wake. His hands clenched at his sides, his breath coming too fast, too uneven.

"Do you really think so little of me that you’d rather punish me for something I didn’t even know I was doing instead of just talking to me?" You went on, voice quieter now. "You could have come to me, like a normal fucking person, and we could have figured this out together."

Sebastian moved before he could think, his hands reaching for you instinctively, desperately. “No—no, of course not,” he blurted frantically. “I think the world of you—”

But you stepped back. It wasn’t a dramatic movement. It wasn’t even all that far. But it was enough.

“You don’t get to break something and then panic when it starts to fall apart,” you said. “You don’t get to say things just to hurt me and then act like you didn’t mean them the second you realize you went too far.”

Sebastian’s breathing was uneven, his pulse hammering in his ears. “I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking, I was just—”

“Angry?” you finished for him, voice tired now. “Yeah, I got that.”

“I fucked up,” he admitted, the words strained, like they hurt to say. “I know I did. But I didn’t mean—”

“But you did. You meant every word when you said it. And I... I think you’ve been carrying this resentment for a long time, Sebastian."

This resentment. This awful, festering, rotting thing.

Fuck, you were right.

It had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. It had taken root the day you walked into Sebastian's life, shining too brightly, outshining everyone. Outshining him. The day you became something more, and he was left chasing your shadow.

This fight had never really been about the special treatment, had it? Not really.

Because, if he were honest—if he could admit the truth he had been running from—he knew you deserved to be treated differently. Of course, you did. You had always deserved it. You were brilliant. Blindingly so. You had power, strength, and the kind of unshakable resolve that made people believe in you. You had fought for the world, and the world had loved you for it. And Sebastian—what had he done?

While you had been defeating Ranrok, he had been falling into dark magic. While you had been saving lives, he had been destroying his own. You had been a hero. He had been a liability.

He had never deserved you. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

And yet—you had chosen him. Again and again and agin, through everything. When the world turned its back on him, you had stayed. When he had been drowning in darkness, you had dragged him, kicking and screaming, back into the light. You had believed in him when he was at his worst.

But it hadn’t convinced him.

Because deep down, some fractured part of him still believed you had made a mistake. That you had seen something in him that wasn’t really there. That one day, you would wake up and realize it. And instead of facing that fear, instead of acknowledging that his jealousy had nothing to do with you and everything to do with him, with his own insecurity, he had let it fester. Let it curdle into something sharp-edged and poisonous. He had taken that self-loathing and turned it outward, twisted it into resentment, as if you were the problem. Because it was easier to blame you than to admit the real issue was himself. Because if he couldn’t stand beside you as your equal, then at the very least, he could try to pull you down to his level.

And now, he was watching the consequences unfold before him.

You let out a slow breath, your arms still crossed over your chest, gaze flickering away from him. That was somehow worse than your anger. Because at least when you were angry, you were fighting for this—fighting for him.

Now, you just looked… done.

Sebastian took a step forward. You took a step back.

“Please,” he tried, voice raw, “don’t—don’t do that.”

You swallowed, gaze flickering somewhere past him. “Do what?”

“Don’t pull away from me,” he rasped. “Please.”

You let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “Sebastian, what the hell do you expect me to do?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. His thoughts were a mess, tangled and frantic, searching for something to make this better.

He had always been good at words. Always knew how to talk his way out of things, to charm, to persuade. But this? This was different. This wasn’t some misunderstanding. This wasn’t some careless mistake. This was something ugly and deep-rooted and poisonous, and he had let it fester too long.

You let out another breath, shaking your head, as if you were trying to gather yourself, trying to find a way forward despite the wreckage he had left between you.

“Look,” you said finally, voice weary, “I don’t... I don’t know what to do with this right now.” You swallowed, rubbing at your temple. “I need, I just need some time.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened. “Time?”

Your voice was quiet, tired. “Yeah.”

Sebastian wanted to argue. Wanted to tell you that he would do anything to fix this right now, but the truth was, he didn’t even know where to start.

He had spent so long resenting you for something that wasn’t even your fault. Had twisted his own insecurities into a weapon and used them against you, let them fester until they spilled out in a way he could never take back.

And now, he had to live with that.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, nodding stiffly. “Okay.”

You looked at him for another moment—just a moment—and then you turned.

Sebastian barely had time to register it before the crack of apparition echoed through the room, and you were gone.

And just like that, the house was silent.

Sebastian exhaled shakily, his hands trembling at his sides. The weight in his chest felt suffocating, crushing. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it tight at the roots, eyes squeezing shut.

What the hell have I done?

[patientno7]

the suffering never ends

[sinksanksockie2]

This is the real process

[thewritingbeast-blog]

Resources for you!

Character Ideas:

Character creation masterpost

Character Alignment Chart

More character alignment descriptions

Muslim Character questions

Characters with magical powers

Building a new character advice

How to create a character for an online or tabletop RPG (also a good guide on creating characters in general)

Royalty/nobility TV Tropes page

Basic character profile

OC masterpost

Random character generators - (1), (2), (3), (4)

D&D Character Building Tool

Character Design Ideas:

How clothing affects a character’s personality

Character Design Inspiration blog

Concept art, fan art, cool art to be inspired by

Character design references and inspiration

Sources for POC character design ideas and models

Create your own character model using HeroForge

For horned characters

Body and hair types guide

Random outfit generator

Naming Help:

Amazing site with an endless amount of naming resources

General advice on avoiding naming appropriation

Hispanic Surnames

Gothic Victorian names

Huge master list for character things in general

Masterlist of names of all types - including but not limited to ancient/old world names, Celtic, African, Northern European, Southern and Central American Native names, Japanese, Chinese, Mongolian, Polynesian, and more

Another name masterlist

How to pick a character name guide

Yet another names masterlist

Creating Background/backstory:

Character Sheet/Development Sheet

Another character development list

In-depth character personality, motivations and traits sheet

320 talents and passions for characters

On writing likes and dislikes that aren’t frivolous

Why you should write non-human characters non-conforming to the gender binary

Stereotypes, tropes, and archetypes

Random backstory generator

Assassin and thief character tropes to avoid

Character Interactions and putting your character into your world/story:

Comparing character height/height references

Characters who are scientists and writing about them doing science

Describing what different voices sound like

Describing skin tones

Writing friendship interactions that are platonic

Why having one character knock their friend unconscious to prevent them from doing something is a bad idea

Advice on shipping OCs with canon characters and what to avoid doing

Sweet Polly Oliver and Sweet on Polly Oliver situations (think of Disney’s Mulan for an example)

How to write multiple viewpoints/juggling a main cast of more than 4 to 6 characters

How to make readers care about your morally gray hero/anti-hero

On platonic OC and canon character relationships

How to avoid Godmodding in RPs

When it’s cheap to kill off a character

Writing dialogue

Things you shouldn’t do to canon characters

Avoiding purple prose in writing and RPs

Slang resources

Dialogue tips

Websites to chart your story/plot/character relationships

Bonus art masterlist!

[brucewayneright]

BLESS EVERYONE IN THIS POST.

[jasmehraj]

Oh my God!

It’s amazing, some links aren’t working for me but those who are, are spectacular.

[tamsinswriting]

Reblogging because NAMING IS HARD

[writing-prompt-s]

!!!!!!!

[justheretop0st]

Me not pausing Drarry to work on a little Rarry

[justheretop0st]

As an adult, Draco Malfoy is….

An Auror

A Healer

Voting ended onSep 21, 2024

I would like input if possible. It’s for the “You Shouldn’t Trust Me” WIP.

[justheretop0st]

I love it ❤️ going to try and get it finished this week.

[justheretop0st]

As an adult, Draco Malfoy is….

An Auror

A Healer

Voting ended onSep 21, 2024

I would like input if possible. It’s for the “You Shouldn’t Trust Me” WIP.

[justheretop0st]

Me, not at all prepared to take the ‘bad’ path in Hogwarts Legacy

[justheretop0st]

Ok I am not a bad game player. My heart breaks each time an NPC calls me out.

I’m sorry Zenobia and I’m sorry Duncan

[justheretop0st]

Art In Progress: Hogwarts Legacy: Light Vs Dark

So these are my characters from my first two play throughs. First question, why is perspective, eyes, and hands so hard??

Meet:

Amilia Cavero

Emilio Rivas

The final two in playing through is the ‘dark’ path. We shall see.

[justheretop0st]

flutterby

you shouldn't trust me

WIP: You Shouldn’t Trust Me

“Out for a nightly walk, Potter? Out of every inch of this castle and you choose to follow me?” Draco kept his wand trained on Potter as he stood.

“So vain Draco,” having flown up ten feet, Draco almost laughed at Harry needing to take a few needed breaths, “No one would follow you willingly. I just know you’re up to something. Katie didn’t fall ill of her own accord.” ‘Colloshoo.’

[justheretop0st]

Me, not at all prepared to take the ‘bad’ path in Hogwarts Legacy

[justheretop0st]

At First Sight

estrella

band au/love at first sight

Inspired by this wonderful person's art. Check them out! @substellaris

Word Count: 7.5K

Triggers: None that I am aware of

He’d never know that he had such a talent. Not until he’d met Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. He was an excellent flyer and seeker, but that was something he felt needed to be saved for his own time. As a way to unwind and relax. What he eventually found out was he was able to pick up the bass quite well. Ron’s older brother, Charlie, had picked up a bass and only used it when he remembered he had it. It was a broken and put together bass, but with a little elbow grease and a little magic, it worked beautifully. 

It was long and grueling work for such little pay off, but with Ron, Hermione, and Luna, they’d managed to entertain the local area. Playing little one offs with little to no tips. But that didn’t matter. The kids dancing in the street with their parents scolding them yet bobbing their heads to the music. The cute elderly couple who would have preferred softer and melodic music, still stopped to offer their respects and a couple of suggestions. 

They had kept this going as a pass time. Every weekend they would drag heavy cases down the road to the main town, entertaining muggles, witches, and wizards alike. It didn’t matter with music. Because as long as he saw a smile, he knew they were doing good. 

So, when they had an offer from a club in London to play opening for a larger band, they had said yes with the upmost energy. They had no idea what this would lead to, but they knew it was an experience they could not pass up. At eighteen, they packed up Harry’s van, this being the beginning of a wonderful career. 

Now they stood on the largest stage in the wizarding world, surrounded by thousands of fans on the first night of their tour. Luna was adored for her angelic voice. Hermione was applauded for her skills on the guitar and piano. Ron was beloved for his passion and control. Harry knew he was cherished for his simple yet powerful amplification of his part in the songs Luna wrote. They worked in perfect harmony and years later from that fateful invitation, they stood loved by witches, wizards, and muggles alike. 

The lights in the concert hall shone brightly, illuminating face after face. Occasionally he would smile and chuckle at preposterous signs of “Marry Me!” And other declarations. He always tried to read the signs, smile at fans, and show just how grateful he was to be standing where he was. He started with nothing. They all did. But now, they stood on stage, performing for the people of this city. 

As he played his rifts and rhythms, he looked up from his own fingers and in a moment, time stood still. There was no sound of music. There was no sound of cheers. He could only hear his Instead of a bright blue, red, or green strobe light, this man was illuminated by a simple white light. Harry took in the angelic sight before him. Platinum hair that had was neatly styled. His grey eyes widened in realization, as if he realized that Harry was focused solely on him. 

A heat spread across Harry's face as things began to play again. Harry heart the hall chanting his name as his muscle memory took over, playing his own mini solo in the time that pasted. His eyes roamed the hall for a moment but searched in the crowd of shadowed faces for the man he had seen. He tried to keep up the energy, but his shoulders slumped in disappointment. 

After the performance and an encore, they had finally completed the finale and settled backstage. Ron and Hermione stood talking excitedly about the performance while Harry was slumped on the couch provided. His arms were crossed as he stared at the floor, the mystery man’s face completely engrained in his mind. He had never experienced this feeling before. He had never made time stand still. Though, he could compare the experience to the first time he picked up a bass. 

A cool feeling crept through his skin. He usually felt an obsessive heat under his skin the drove him in every decision, but this chilling embrace, offered a refreshing feeling. It wasn't any less, but a new form of passion that he had never experienced again. Until now. 

He snapped from his thoughts as there was a bounce of weight next to him. Luna was sat sideways and facing towards him, smiling in the knowing way that she always did. “So, what does he look like?” 

Harry was startled by the blatant question but was not surprised. Luna was keenly perceptive in the best possible way, but it often left her blunt and with no filter. “He’s an impeccable beauty. He’s got these grey eyes that just seemed to shine Luna. I mean really shine. He’s got blonde hair, but it was so neat and just framed his face so well. I’ve never seen anyone look so... well, it too bad there is zero to zero chance of anything happening.” 

“Well of course nothing will happen,” Luna said this in a cheery voice and a smile that made her eyes appear closed. 

“Eh, well thank you for pointing out the obvious.” 

“No, I mean of course nothing will happen. You’re just sitting here instead of going out to look for this mystery man!” Harry cocked an eye at Luna. While people had assumed that living as a band meant total freedom, there were certain restrictions their manager had placed hoping to sell more tickets and backstage visits. “I can’t just leave Luna- “

She quickly grabbed his hand and gave a squeeze, smile on her face. “Yes, you can.” 

Normally he wouldn’t think twice about running off to do what he wanted. But this was their job. He wouldn’t put that at risk. “But- “ 

“You should go mate. Well keep things covered here.” Ron had leaned against the back of the couch between the two and looked over at Harry. “You’re so caught up with everyone else. Go.” 

“Ehem, I’m sorry Harry but it would seem our first group of people are here.” Just as Harry was getting up to grab his jacket, his shoulder slumped in disappointment. He just had permission from his friends and technically coworkers. He was willing to search, but the sound of their manager opening the door and walking in with a group quickly broke his hope to at least try to find this man. 

“Well best get prepa- “Harry’s eyes widened as his eyes met a familiar set of grey ones. 

——————

Draco did not want to go to this concert. He didn’t. He had better things to do that his father had expected of him. Surely Pansy and Blaise would understand? 

They didn’t. He sat in front of the mirror and styled his hair as Pansy sat beside him putting on make-up. “You know you could say thank you.” 

“Why? Because you both are forcing me to go to a concert. I believe it should be the other way around.” He grabbed a choker necklace that held an S and patted it snugly against his skin. 

Pansy rolled her eyes as she finished applying dark lipstick. Blaise put a hand on Draco’s shoulder and leaned over him with a smile. “You deserve a break. It’s hard being a ‘Nepo Baby’. Besides, your father will never hear of this, I promise.” 

Draco only stuck his nose up as he scoffed. Of course it was about that. He had secret pleasures such as this. Of course, he was so thankful that Pansy won the radio call-in for three floor seats and backstage passes, but he had built a reputation by direction of his father. No one in his position would be caught dead at a concert like this, mixed with muggles. But he did want to go deep down. 

So, when they were sat cheering and taking photos for their own personal records, it took him by surprise to meet bright green eyes. His face suddenly felt hot and though he was positive it was meant to be a general glance out to the crowd, he found it wasn’t. 

He’d seen the Famous Harry Potters eyes in magazines Pansy let him borrow, the pictures did not do him justice. He’d always found the Potter boy to be quite handsome but seeing him in person was a whole new experience. Their eyes remained connected through the song and Draco couldn’t break the heat that spread across his cheeks and under his skin. It sent chills and comfort through his body. He wanted to feel that more. He kept contact with Potters green eyes. They were so still and focused on him. Draco half wondered if it was even directed with him at all. But the focus in Potters eyes was enough to tell him that it was.

Suddenly, Draco didn’t care that he had come against his better judgement. Potter had ended up breaking the connection first as the song came to an end. Draco felt the icy feeling creep back into his body as he wanted to catch Potters eye again. But he stood patiently staring at him and his precise fingers that pressed and played his bass. 

Before the end of the concert, Pansy had pulled him and Blaise to the meeting location to the meet the band. Draco had almost forgot that Pansy had backstage passes. While waiting outside the door, Draco stood slicking his hair back only for it to fall back into place. Darn his hair product for working so well. Blaise, who was leaned against the wall, chuckled at his vain attempt to look better. “Doubt it’s going to do much.” He said in a sing-song voice. Draco glared at him, but knew it was in vain. Potter was some famous superstar while he was just a politician’s son. Still didn’t mean he couldn’t make a good impression. He wasn’t some superfan like Pansy. 

The door shot open as a tall wizard with sunglasses checked their passes and brought them in as the first group. They had a fifteen-minute backstage meet n greet so he would try to make the most of it before he returned to his boring and strict life. They followed him in succession and finally, they walked past the threshold. 

Pansy tried hard to hold it inside. She so desperately wanted to ask for autographs, but opted to hold it in. Blaise played it cool and smiled at the band before them. He just had to be the epitome of cool. Draco, however, searched the room for Potter, only to be surprised that Potter was already looking at him. 

“Alright gang, here’s the first group! Have fun!” The door shut behind them as Luna and Hermione walked to the group with smiles and talking to the group. 

Ron stayed by Harry and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Bloody hell, is that- “ 

Harry could only nod, his eyes not leaving Draco’s even though he was being polite and responding to Luna and Hermione. “Harry, that Lucius Malfoy’s kid. Draco, I think- Right sorry, I forget you don’t keep up with that stuff. Lucius is a politician; he has poured money into Draco becoming the next minister. My father works in a different department and has told me how much Lucius harps on Draco.” 

Harry took in the information with a frown but moved to stand as he gestured to Ron to follow. “Don’t know much about that. But something changed. I can just feel it.” 

As they approached, Harry smiled at the small group, but stopped in front of the grey eyed beauty. “Hi there, thanks for coming to the show. It was quite magical I hope.” Harry glanced at Draco when he said this and noticed his cheeks grow red, but Draco didn’t look away. 

“It was amazing! Thank you so much for setting this up. I never thought I would have the opportunity to meet you guys.” Pansy seemed to not be able to hold it in anymore as she gushed about how much she loved their music, breaking down their performances and ranking them. Blaise stood idly with Ron as they had a simple conversation. Harry really couldn’t hear what about, but he held out a hand to Draco and smiled softly. “Hi.” 

Draco let out an airy snort before reaching out and taking Harry’s hand. “Hello.” Harry gestured to the couch and the two departed from the group to take a seat and just talk. It wasn’t a long conversation, after all, they had fifteen minutes. But Harry immediately felt that cooling sensation he had before. This time it was more intense. Draco enjoyed every minute of their conversation. Despite the prim and proper nature of his conversations with those in the ministry, he didn’t feel the need to fake himself. After all, they would never meet again. But Draco would surely treasure this moment. 

As the door opened with new people to meet the group, Pansy and Blaise stood for one last photo, asking for Draco and Harry to join. They stood and before they joined the group, Harry took a chance. “Draco, um,” well he should have had something planned. He began to fidget with his bracelet, then it clicked. “Here., I want you to have this. If not as a promise we can meet again, but then as a thank you for coming to the concert.” 

Draco felt Pansy and Blaise’s eyes on him as he grabbed the bracelet and held it in his hands. It had a red leather band with braided leather strips with little gold chains. Draco then held out his arm, offering the bracelet back. “Would you help me?” 

Harry smiled and proceeded to clip the bracelet in place. His hand stayed a little longer than needed before the let go. Draco returned the smile briefly before turning to return to his friends, casually throwing over his shoulder a, “I’m in touch.” 

—————

The two began writing every day. Sometimes it was as simple as good morning and good day. Other times, there were pages and pages of each other’s story. Harry didn’t hesitate to disclose himself to Draco while Draco seemed hesitant. When Draco wrote, he often tried to leave names out his correspondence. However, a few missteps lead Harry, Hermione, to hypothesize that Draco was likely being careful because of his affiliation to his father. It wasn’t hard to believe. 

Harry’s time was often filled with practices and other work that demanded his attention. However, he made the time to reach out and even offer to come to Draco, after all, he could easily ask for forgiveness than permission if he missed something with work. Draco couldn’t it seemed. 

Draco responded at least twice a day, an initial greeting and a quick written explanation that he was too busy to chat. Harry once asked if he could visit Draco. This was shut down in record time. Harry was grateful for the time he was able to get from Draco. His letters alone made him feel better after a hectic day. He kept every single letter and re-read them when Draco happened to be busy. He’d often read the Prophet in hopes of catching a glimpse of Draco, but it hadn’t been successful. Draco hadn’t disclosed much about his job, what he wanted to do, or anything else. 

Ron noticed how much Harry began to sulk about Draco and as the great friend he was, offered a simple solution. “Just go see him?” Harry scoffed and tossed the cushion that he had been holding tightly against his chest. 

“Sure, seems easy when you think about it. But I can’t just barge in and expect he’d be ok to see me. Especially when he’s told me, and I quote, ‘You shall not come and visit. I forbid it.’ Sure Ron, should go swimmingly.” 

“Alright, no need to chomp off my head for it. Just gets depressing seeing you wallow in self-pity. Boo-hoo, can’t see your boyfriend. Either do something about it or accept that you two are just too different to really make whatever it is you’ve got work.” Ron sat down on the other end of the couch picking up the daily Prophet. 

Harry didn’t retort but sat there going over what Ron had said. As much as he hated it, he knew Ron had a point. And so, he acted as he normally would, as ‘calm and rationally’ as possible and he set to work. 

———

Draco sat at his desk with droopy eyes. Gosh did he want to sleep, but the work needed to be done. His father had demanded it and, well, what his father wanted, he got. He lived alone, but still the flat held his father’s presence. Neat and devoid of any life. He had to fight for his own space, arguing that it would make him more relatable to others when it got closer to elections and such. But even then, this wasn’t his own. He hated the marble counters that were trimmed with gold and black. He hated the columns that dotted the flat. Even the black colored floor that screamed elegance, but it wasn’t him. 

Pansy and Blaise had tried to spruce up the place with friendly pictures and small tokens of their friendship, but it all disappeared with a flick of his father’s wand. Draco shook his head and refocused on the work in front of him. If he completed it and grabbed an official position in the ministry, then his father would certainly stop being as strict as he was. Even with his mother’s protection, it didn’t spare him from much as he grew up. 

Small tapping caught his attention as he looked around. Perhaps it was a neighbor? He shook his head and refocused. Work to do. 

But it happened again, this time with a barrage of taping that he then realized came from his window. He turned and rose from his seat. Who would be writing this late? He opened the curtains but couldn’t see anything. Against his better judgement, he opened the window to take a better look outside. 

This time he was hit with a barrage of pebbles that fell to the floor and through his shirt. “What the- “ 

“Draco!” A forced scream whisper sounded through his very chest. Certainly, it wasn’t- “Draco!” 

He leaned back out the window and looked down to see none other than the famous Harry Potter. He frowned but crossed his arms against the window seal. “And what are you doing here Potter? Didn’t I expressly forbid you from simply stopping by?” 

Harry flinched at the tone, but it was worth a shot. “I know. But I just wanted to see you.” The candor of the statement shot through Draco’s icy exterior as his eyes widened with shock. “I will leave if you want me to. But I was going to invite you out flying.” 

Draco loved flying. He was a natural when he was young, but when his father’s tutors came, that all came to a stop. He bit the inside of his cheek. He could afford a break, right? Opting to not seem too eager he waved his hand out the window, gesturing for Harry to come up. Harry took notice of a certain bracelet Draco was wearing. 

———

Though he was dressed in his formal wear, he still flew with ease. Harry laughed as they both circled each other and raced along the night sky. Draco was as serious and calm as he could be. The air rushed through his hair, and he certainly felt more alive and aware than he had an hour ago. He’d free fall a couple hundred feet and catch himself before he could break the line of the sky. 

They’d finally found a comfortable spot to simply hover and watch the stars. Harry was able to lean back with his hands in his pocket, while Draco leaned forward with his arms folded against the wood of his broom. 

“Thanks. For inviting me out. But don’t expect that you can just show up like this again.” Harry looked over at Draco and smiled. 

“I mean, I missed looking at your face. You have a nice smile when you’re doing something you love.” Draco tried to push down the blush that spread across his face and to his ears, but he knew he failed. 

“Suppose it would be easy for you to say that. You get to do what you love every day.” 

“Well tell me than, what would you be doing then? Because I know it isn’t whatever it is you’re doing now.”

Draco stayed silent. He’d thought of it. But there wasn’t much he could do to make the dream a reality. He’d love to be an alchemist, healer, or potioneer. He wanted to create, and he knew he was good at it. He wanted to fix things; he’s done it before. But it was just a dream. Nothing more. “What makes you think I don’t love what I’m doing?” 

“Draco,” Harry sat forward and ducked to try and look at Draco directly, “You never look happy. You’re always busy. And even though this is the first time we’ve met up since the concert, you look exhausted in a bad way.”

“Like there is a good way. It’s work.”

“Well, yeah. I get exhausted most days. My shoulder, arm, and hands get sore. There are some days my fingers bleed. But it’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love doing. Creating music with my friends and sharing it with the world. You deserve that too Draco.” 

Draco finally looked over at Harry, his eyes soft. Once Harry took a second look, he leaned his broom closer to Draco’s and hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around Draco’s shoulders. Draco never let himself really feel. He never had a choice but to feel thankful for the opportunities his father provided. Hearing Harry’s passion for his work, it just shows how much he was missing. Draco let a tear fall. Then another. Until he was fully leaned into Harry’s embrace. It was messy and wobbly given that they were in the air still, but Draco didn’t care. 

Harry rubbed Draco’s shoulder as he began to quietly weep. He’d known sadness before. Not like this, but he’d sometimes get emotional when Sirius or Remus told him stories about his parents. He wished he could have had a life feeling wanted as a child. But seeing how Draco’s shoulders rose and fell with sputtered inconsistency, Harry understood what it could have led to. 

The flapping of wings interrupted the moment between them. When Draco looked up, his eyes widened at the sight of a pure white barn owl with striking black eyes. It landed on the tip of Draco’s broom and held out is leg expectantly. Draco didn’t dare move to grab it, mentally degrading himself for letting this go on for more than an hour. 

Harry, as curious as he was, reached for the letter and opened it. Sure, it wasn’t for him, but he knew a panicked response when he saw one. He read the letter, which was written in fine dark green ink. His nose scrunched up while reading the letter. The consequences of Draco’s lack of ambition would result in the falling of the Malfoy name because no Malfoy man shouldn’t be in a position of power. And this failure would not come from Draco. Signed, Lucius Malfoy. Harry turned to Draco who only stared at the owl, arms wrapped tightly around himself. 

“Draco, you deserve to be happy too. Surely there is a better way to- “

“Shut up Potter. You wouldn’t know what is better or what makes me happy.” Harry was left speechless at the quick retort, but not for long. 

“Draco, all I’m saying is you’ve been surrounded with his mess all your life. There is more than this darkness that your father is filling your head with.” 

“Shut up, Shut up! You don’t know Potter! Just- leave me alone. Don’t write to me. Don’t come knocking. Obviously, this was a bad idea. You’re becoming a distraction. Yes. That’s what it is.” With that Draco turned sharply on his broom back to his flat. Harry quickly followed, passing the owl as he did so. 

“Draco waits!” He sped beside Draco and tried to pull in front of him. He reached and grabbed Draco’s arm, pulling them both to a sloppy stop. Draco didn’t fight but didn’t look at Harry either. “Is that what you really want? I’m not a distraction if I’m someone you want. Give yourself some slack! This is your life. Not your fathers, not your family’s, but your life. Please Draco. Make a choice for yourself.” Harry knew that he had deep feelings for the blonde in front of him. They’d hardly spent more than three hours with each other, but there was something inside him that made him feel normal. Even if Draco didn’t want more with Harry, he would still stay beside Draco like he would with Ron, Hermione, Luna, or any of his other friends. 

Draco’s other arm gripped his broom tighter as he jerked his arm from Harry’s hand. His eyes were still wet, and his neck was a dark red. He hurriedly unclipped the bracelet that Harry had given him and chucked it in a fit of frenzied anxiety. 

When Draco turned back to Harry, his eyes rose to meet the usual bright green ones. Grey eyes swirled with shadows of melancholy and turmoil. His icy interior seemly melting with his deep desire to feel wanted for himself. To be able to choose his own destiny. He only wanted peace, but that would only ever be a dream. With one last look, Draco tried to convey his remorse for his action, but he knew that it was over. Their friendship. Whatever could have happened, was no more. He took off again, this time not hearing Harry shout after him or the rush of wind from his speed. 

----------

“Harry? Rons told me that you’ve been shut up in your room since you last spoke with Draco. We’ve respected your solitude long enough. Either open the door or we are coming in.” Ron grabbed Hermione’s shoulder with a shake of his head. 

“Mione, we aren’t going to do that.” 

“Oh yes, I am. He certainly would do it for any of us if- “

“Oh, hello Harry.” Lunas soft voice quelled the bickering between Ron and Hermione. They turned to see Harry with an armful of papers. 

“Oh, hey guys, sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you, but I just got busy with this. I hope you’ll like it. I’m going to talk to our manager to get him to set up another performance. I think we should be able to get these cleaned up and good to go.” Harry passed out the scribbled down parts of the music he crafted. Ron drums. Hermione keyboard. Luna guitar and backup vocals. Harry bass and lead. 

“Harry this sound like it’s wonderful. But what prompted this?” Luna pulled her wand from her hair and began to clean up the scribbled writing and sheet music. 

Harry looked away, “I don’t know why it really matters, but I want to try and get to Draco the only way I know how.” Harry turned his gaze back to his friends and scratched his face. “I know I must sound crazy, but- “

“Bloody hell, of course you are. Just didn’t want you sulking away. Give us time to practice and we will meet up in a week?”

Hermione hmphed and pointed a finger at Harry, “Next time you want to make new music, at least involve us,” she turned and followed Lunas lead by clearing up the paper as best she could while muttering under her breath. 

Ron shrugged at Harry and followed the girls to walk them to the door. He locked the door and accio’ed his sticks, opting to use the couch pillows as a practice set for now. 

Harry was thankful to have such understanding friends. But he could only hope the letter he’d sent to Blaise and Pansy would prove they were too. 

-----------

Draco did not want to go to this concert. He didn’t. He had better things to do that his father had expected of him. Surely Pansy and Blaise would understand? Especially if he just told them the truth about what happened. However, they did not understand and instead began shoving clothes onto him and brushing out his hair before he finally gave up and dressed himself. 

This time Blaise was fortunate enough to win some tickets, apparently to some new debut. Draco really didn’t care, but his friends wouldn’t let him just stay home. He’d been sulking since the flight. His hand kept trying to fidget with the bracelet Potter had given him, but of course he just acted. He wished he could have just given it back to Potter, perhaps there could have been some salvage of friendship. Draco kept his head down not caring who was playing, the conversations around him, or even the cheers when the openers arrived on stage.

“You know that he’s right.” Pansy’s voice was almost drowned out by the music and cheers. Draco looked over at her and shook his head. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” That was a lie. He had learned quickly to tell fibs when they best suited him. Unfortunately, Blaise and Pansy wouldn’t learn to accept it.

Putting her a hand on her hip, the other rose to pinch his cheek. “You’re being dumb again.” He almost yelled in protest, but an arm on his shoulder grabbed his attention. 

“Shh, focus.” Blaise smirked and pointed to the stage. At some point they seemed to have changed out. Center stage with his Bass and an earpiece microphone was none other than Potter himself. Draco suddenly felt sick and wanted to just run. How could they bring him here? He thought for a moment and sighed. He really didn’t give them much information about what happened. The depression he’d fallen into was more than just breaking off whatever Potter and him had. 

Potter had seemed to really fight. Blaise and Pansy did, sure, but they grew up with him. They understood the life he lived. Because they lived it too. Potter was the first stranger to fight for him. To really want to talk to him and even laugh with him. Even in the brief flight, Potter didn’t hesitate to compete with him. It wasn’t fair. 

Guitar and Bass started; it was a different pace than their usual music. But when Potter opened his mouth, Draco felt shivers down his spine. The melodic and almost effortless vocal was enough to bring the crowd to their senses as fans around them screamed and cheered their praises for his official debut. But Draco heard something more. He saw something more. Potter stared directly at him. Though he swayed and almost bounced in spot, his voice remained clear with the clarity of a crystal. Each tone he hit and played sparked a type of passion in Draco’s heart. His eyes watered, but he didn’t cry.  He listened to each lyric with bated breath. 

“It breaks my heart that you can't let go

You say you're fine, but oh, I know

You've been dancing, dancing, dancing with your shadows

When the days get hard, and your lights burn low

Don't go far, just hold me close

We'll go dancing, dancing, dancing with your shadows

Dancing with your shadows,” 

Instead of making this song a confessional of the desire he had, instead, Harry had poured his person into it. Draco could tell because it screamed Harry. The deep emotional connection that Harry had developed to Draco pierced through Draco’s core. Some one feels for him. It hurts Harry to see him so troubled? Harry sees the façade that Draco spent so long building and perfecting? His hand reached for the bracelet that Harry gifted him, but remembered it was gone. Draco deserved to live and linger among the shadows. He was nothing but a tool and puppet for his family. He’d known and accepted this fact long ago. But Harrys simple offer to pull him close seemed to strike a new feeling inside him. Desire. He had been a tool and built so much, so why was he not proud of it? Did he truly deserve to be? Would Harry stay by his side and continue to fight for Draco? With Draco? It became too much as Draco broke from his seat and pushed down the crowded aisles to the lobby. He ignored Blaise and Pansy’s calls despite them following him out.

------

Harry paced the room as he heard the openers nearly completing their set. He’d no idea if his idea worked, but he had to try. He’d written to Draco’s friends and asked that they bring Draco to the concert, if not to say sorry, then to see Draco one last time. Despite never feeling the way he did with anyone else; he still felt his protective urge to help and guide Draco to his happiness. Ron, Hermione, and Luna tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t hold a single conversation. His throat was tight with anticipation. But it didn’t stop them from offering their words of encouragement. 

“You’ll do amazing Harry. Don’t ask how I know. Careful now, your heads full of wrackspurts.”

“We’ve practiced day in and out. You’ve composed a wonderful set. Whatever happens, we are right here.”

“It’s not like you’ve done this before mate, besides, I’ve had to listen to you sing for the past some odd years while cleaning or whatever, you’re fine.” 

As they prepared to get on stage, Harry suddenly felt a sense of calm surround him. It was a familiar sensation that he could not place. He shook his head and tried to focus as people attached and connected the earpiece to him. Just as they made their way into place, his eyes landed on the primary spot he’d chosen for the Blaise, Pansy, and Draco. He wanted to know for sure if Draco showed, and it seemed that he had. Harry watched as Blaise pointed him out to Draco, who looked up at the stage to see him. Harry wanted to wave, but the same look flashed across Draco’s face. Was this the right choice? 

As Luna and him began to play, Draco’s expression faded from shock to fascination. He didn’t blink and though he might have wanted to run, he stayed and stared. Not an icy glare or the same look from the other concert, but something new. Next his eyes seemed to water like that night, but no tears seemed to fall. Draco’s eyebrows rose as a hand rose to cover his mouth. 

“It's hard to hear your words

When you're so afraid to speak 'em

Somethings on your mind

But you're hiding it away

If you're running through the woods

Yeah, I'll search all night to find you

When the wolves are at your door

I'm gonna drive them all away” 

Harry wrote this song with every intention of sharing to Draco that it didn’t matter what happened between them. He just wanted to stay by his side, even if it was to take the hurt or protect Draco from all of his inner turmoil. The song portrayed it so well he felt, even with the help of his friends who offered better alternatives to make it the best it could be. He was so fortunate, why wouldn’t he offer it to someone who needed it? 

While the song came to an end, Harry watched in defeat as Draco ran. But he couldn’t show it. He had to keep on with the show. He had to continue playing even as Luna picked up her usual que as lead vocalist. He kept up the energy as best as he could. But he knew he would collapse after all was said and done. 

Luna finished the set, bidding the fans a great night as the closers began to usher people safely from the hall. Ron was the first to lead Harry off the stage. He didn’t make any comment, he didn’t thrash Draco, but he did rub a soothing hand down Harry’s arm as Hermione and Luna followed slowly behind. Harry could hear Hermione’s concerns of Harry shutting down and retreating into himself. Harry knew what she was talking about. Before he found music, his temper was horrible. He’d snap at his friends and despite their efforts to help him, he pushed them away. He knew they didn’t want that to happen, but he often did when he failed or felt alone. This wasn’t their fault, and he secretly vowed not to allow it to happen again. 

As they reached the backstage room, Ron ushered Harry to the couch while Hermione rushed to grab water for everyone. Luna sat next to Harry as they had last time, but this time she held his hand and wrapped it in-between both of hers. “I’d be second-guessing everything right about now, but I’d like you to remember that you’ve done everything you can Harry,” Luna looked into Harry’s eyes and smiled, “You’re so wonderful for trying to help him, but remember that you cannot internalize his decision. I don’t know what you might be feeling right now, but I know we are all here. We will walk this path together. Ok?” 

Harry felt like a failure, but he knew Luna was right. Draco made his choice and while Harry would have loved to see what Draco could have been, he understood that Draco was gone in his family’s misery. He opened his mouth to respond, but shouting caught his attention. Everyone in the room was put on alert as they grabbed their wands and pointed it at the door. The shouting grew closer as spells and the shield charm were cast. 

The door swung open as their manager fell back with his own wand pointed at the intruders. “And I said that I didn’t care if you ‘know’ them. You shouldn’t be back here!” 

Stepping through the door, Draco pointed his wand down at the man and scoffed. “How else was I supposed to reach out tonight? Seriously, you’ve met me before stupid, arrogant man!” He blocked a stunning curse and stepped over the man on the floor.

Draco looked around the room and watched as Harry lowered his wand. “Draco?” 

“Pott- Harry,” Draco suddenly looked to the side and put away his wand, unsure of what else he would say, but he still opened his mouth refusing to look at Harry. 

“Look, I have always been guarded and trained to hold my cards close to my chest. I don’t know who I can trust and even now it sucks to be in this position. Before you, things were fine. But you were the first stranger in my life to make me feel wanted and fought for. I lov- appreciate how you light up about what you’re passionate about. I’d like to feel that too. If you can forgive me for the last conversation we had, I’d like to learn.” Draco finally looked at Harry with cautious and guarded eyes. His nose was pointed high as if Draco prepared to dismiss the entire situation like he would dismiss a servant. 

Harry walked over to Draco slowly. “That’s all I’d like to do,” Harry grabbed Dracos hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “and perhaps when you’re settled and on your own, we could pick up where things left off.” Draco squeezed Harrys hand back and nodded. 

“I fully anticipate problems. I’ll expect you to stay by my side as I suffer through them.”

Harry smiled, “By the end of it, you will not suffer anymore. But I will help you through it.”

------

Epilogue

“Mate, you could have bought a better place yeah?” Ron bit the side of his lip as he peered around the building that held dust, spiderwebs, and broken furniture. 

“Not exactly in my ‘budget’ Weasel. Besides, its perfect. It’s mine.” Draco stepped into the decomposing building and stood firm in what used to be the lobby or main entrance. 

“That’s the spirit Draco, this isn’t something a little elbow grease can’t fix!” Hermione pushed up her sleeves and put down the cleaning supplies she brought. 

“Oh? I thought this was your intentions Draco. I think it is lovely.” Draco raised an eyebrow at Luna and opted to not say anything. 

“Of course, it needs to be cleaned and repaired. Once I am finished with my apprenticeship with Severus, I will be able to open my own shop. It needs to be ready by then.” 

“Well, good thing you’ve got great support.” Draco turned to see Harry breathing heavily as he walked through the door. “Sorry I’m a little late, got caught up.” He took his time looking around and smiling. “It’ll be great Draco.”

Draco grimaced, “Well it better be. I didn’t leave it all behind for it to fail.” He crossed his arms and looked around the space and sighed.  

Luna chuckled, “Failure is inevitable, it’s your reaction that dictates success.”

Ron frowned, “Impossible, it’s how much profit you can make. Trust me, George and Fred have made it perfectly clear now that they’re successful.”

Hermione, who had set the broom to sweep scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. “Both of you are ridiculous, you won’t fail if you prepare, and money doesn’t mean everything. It is about the accomplishment.” 

Harry rolled his eyes as he picked up a duster and began to manually dust, idly listening to his friends bicker as they began to help clean. Draco was focused on repairing the roof as he noticed a large hole that had attributed to the damage in the building. He began to repair it until he noticed something gold falling onto him. He backed away with a small gasp and watched as familiar red clunked to the floor. 

Draco picked up the bracelet he’d thrown so long ago and could not believe his eyes. Thinking back, he supposed that they had flown all over Wiltshire and it was possible. But the odds were astronomical. “Hey what’s up?”

Draco turned quickly not hiding the object in his hand. “I-,” He couldn’t believe it and yet he held it in his hand. 

Harry wasn’t prepared to see the bracelet ever again. It wasn’t anything to special, but he’d given it to Draco as a promise. He reached out for the bracelet and held it in his hands. He wanted to slip it back onto his own wrist but looked back at Draco with a shy smile. “May I?’ He held out his hand. 

Draco felt his face get warm as he placed his hand in Harry’s. “Another promise for me to break I suppose?”

Harry chuckled as he latched it. “I hope not. But I have a feeling when all is said and done, there is only one way for this to go.” Harry inwardly cringed, but he knew what he would like to happen. Since the first concert, the feeling that Draco gave, his drive, and eventual passion. He would like to be more than a tool in his journey, but a part of it. 

Draco rolled his eyes as the bracelet fell into place. “I don’t think a bracelet is a good way to promise that,” Draco grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt and pulled him close, smashing their lips together in an explosion of new sensations. Harry was shocked but rested his hands on Draco’s hips. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders. They’d stay like that for as long as they could, but when they pulled away, they didn’t separate. They pressed their foreheads together in a silent promise to make it work. 

After another moment, Draco smirked, “Besides Potter, you’re better than that. But if you need reminders, I suppose I will oblige and remind you.” 

They both laughed and pulled away to finish cleaning. Both were eager to start something more serious. But of course, life was more chaotic. There wouldn’t be a perfect time for their relationship to start. But at first sight, they knew that they had every chance. 

[justheretop0st]

WIP: At First Sight

estrella

band au/love at first sight

^ inspired by this wonderful persons amazing art. Still working on it and the hope is to get it finished this weekend!

A cool feeling crept through Harry’s skin. He usually felt an obsessive heat under his skin the drove him in every decision, but this chilling embrace, offered a new, unusual, and refreshing feeling. It wasn't any less, but a new form of passion that he had never experienced again. Until now. 

———

He’d seen the Famous Harry Potters eyes in magazines Pansy let him borrow, the pictures did not do him justice. He’d always found the Potter boy to be quite handsome but seeing him in person was a whole new experience. Their eyes remained connected through the song and Draco couldn’t break the heat that spread across his cheeks and under his skin. It sent chills and comfort through his body. He wanted to feel that more. He kept contact with Potters green eyes. They were so still and focused on him. Draco half wondered if it was even directed with him at all. But the focus in Potters eyes was enough to tell him that it was.

[goldmanrustic]

long awaited drarry

yeah this drawing killed me in so many ways but it's finally done!! i've had this idea for sooo long but i only found a relevant reference just recently

they're everything to me<3

[justheretop0st]

Moving Forward

And there he was, so prim and proper. Years beaten into him the importance of appearances. Though, he knew that actions spoke louder, which was why Harry would be able to walk around the wizarding world so basic and normal. Yet no one would bat an eye, only offer a small ‘thank you.’ Which is why Harry had to step in when the man he once hated was being verbally assaulted.

Draco had put up with this treatment for years despite making progress in the alchemical field. He never wavered in his stoney demeanor when this occurred. He would usually wait until the people left or he would continue on his way. He felt as though he deserved the treatment forced upon him. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, saved him from a fate worse than death when the war ended. He faced no real consequences, so he endured the threats, the assaults, and the looks he received when people saw him in the streets.

Harry had managed to pull the crowd to focus on him, but still Draco stood unafraid and unfeeling. Once Harry had managed to disperse the crowd, he’d offered to walk with Draco wherever he needed to go, explaining that he really didn’t deserve that.

“You don’t know what I deserve Potter. I didn’t need your saving.” Draco kept his eyes directly infront of him, a firm crease in his eyebrows indicating more he wanted to say, but chose not to.

“Really? Because it certainly looked like you did. You’re usually so quick to shut someone down. So why didn’t you?” Harry kept his hands in his pockets and kept pace with the blonde beside him. He watched as Draco took long, but careful strides to wherever he was going. His hands pinching and relaxing at his side.

“And why does it matter to you?” His voice was low and seemingly dangerous, yet he still didn’t waver in his gaze. “Surely the Savior of the Wizarding world has something better to do?”

“Not really,” Harry had chosen to avoid Draco’s first question and cleared his throat, “but why don’t you tell me about it? We could go to a cafe or somewhere more private. Just seems odd that you wouldn’t. I doubt a couple of years has done that to you.” He pointed this out to Draco and nodded his head towards a local muggle cafe that he liked to frequent. No one knew him here except by Harry, just the way he’d like it when he needed peace.

Draco, despite wanting to be anywhere but here, simply followed the direction Harry nodded towards. He took in the shop and its familiar, yet different, atmosphere. He loved cafes. He loved the smells and ambience. It was a place of peace for him, but he’d never thought about going to a muggle one before.

Draco allowed Harry to deal with ordering and paying. And together they sat, in a somber but relaxed silence. Harry ate his croissant and Draco drank his tea. Harry didn’t rush Draco, and Draco didn’t rush away from the silence.

They’d not spoke in two years, yet there was a simple understanding between them. The hate of the past was gone and anything moving forward was a mystery.

[justheretop0st]

WIP: Choosing You

She offered a small smile and wave as the boy paid and rushed out. Once the bell rang again she turned to her brother with her hands on her hips. “Draco, you’ll never make friends with that attitude.”

“What attitude? I am right and if anyone doesn’t like it, perhaps they’re not a friend I’d like to have.” He closed his eyes and turned up a nose, indicating he’d been done with the conversation.

“I don’t agree. Does that mean you’d abandon me?” She felt like she knew the answer, however, she’d surely like to hear it from him. But he stayed silent, nose turned up and letting the assistant who was pinning his robes work in silence.

[justheretop0st]

Promise

Part 1

His hand reached out to grab your arm, not wanting you to leave. He has so much he needs to say, but it never seems like the right time. He knew the rumors. He knew they were true. He did not want you to leave.

Each time you left, you always came back with another story. Another scar. Another fear. Your heart is to good for this world. Yet you’ve willingly chosen to share the purity and grace you have naturally to the world who takes so willingly.

“It’ll be alright.” Just as he knows you, it would seem you know him. He has tried to control how he looks each time you told him you were leaving for a new venture. To help someone. To stop Rookwood and Harlow. To build your unique ability. Yet each time you chose to leave, despite the mournful look on his face.

Amit

He has tried so hard to figure out where it was written in the stars that you had to do these things. He knew you were destined for greatness the moment you stepped through the Great Hall doors.There was a nervousness to your walk, yet, you wasted no time to be sorted and start the new adventure in your life.

He love nothing more than to go with you. He’d gladly protect you if he could. But he know that the action and danger you gladly embrace, is something he could never bring himself to do again. However, he tried so hard to understand research this the drill and what the goblins could be digging for. He wanted to help you in any way he could. He researched into goblin history and cross referenced instances where goblins would have to mine for something. Not a usual cross between wizardkind and goblinkind, but the most he was able to find is a mention of Bragbor. He has tried to help and offer information to you, but he knows there is information that is missing.

He decides to act on his instincts and reaches out to grab your arm, his hand tight and shaking. “Please, don’t go. It’s to dangerous.” Though his hand is shaking, his voice is firm. You can only smile at him with uncertainty. You’d love nothing more than to grant his request, but you’ve so much to do. Things that would make the world better and safer. For him.

“Amit, I.. I’d love nothing more than to do this for you. But I can’t. Not right now at least. I need to make the world safer. For the people I love and care about. I have responsibilities-“

“You don’t get it!” His other hand grabbed your other arm pulling you closer. Trying in a vein attempt to get you to stay. “I love you. But all of this is running you ragged! Putting you in danger! If you’ve seen worse than the mine we went to, then that is far too much!” His hand shook against your arms, but this time his voice cracked with fresh tears. It was fortunate that the astrology tower is usually empty, day or night.

You placed a hand onto his cheek and immediately his shot to it, as if to keep you from floating away. “Dearest star, the cosmos didn’t simply happen upon beauty. Chaos reigned, and now, look at its perfection. I don’t know why I was given this gift or why I take these responsibilities. But I do it because I would love a perfect world we can share. I can make you this promise, I’ll always come back to you.”

Deep down he knew you were right. You were willing to take a risk he’d never dare to. But he knew one thing was certain. You’d never break a promise. You were a competent user of magic. You’ve broken the barriers of all expectations of you, and he knew you would be fine. But what he wouldn’t give to have you simply stay here with him. With your friends. Living a normal life. He looked at you with wide eyes and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close for a hug.

“Please do. I’ve never met anyone who understands me like you do..” Despite the urgency of before, you let him hold you like this. Letting him cry out his worries and fears for you. Settled in the moonlight, you both made a sealing promise. You’d return to him and he’d be there with open arms.

Garreth:

“If I am being honest with you, I would prefer it if you didn’t leave. I’m not one for fighting as you are, but I’ll make sure you’re well prepared. Here.” He gave a dour look as he began to pull out vial after vial. He’d spent a week perfecting the potions to ensure they’d work for you. He did not know what you’d be facing, but surely these potions would help. Even if the thought of the Wiggenweld potion made his stomach hurt.

“I also spoke with Professor Garlick and she allowed me to plant some of the more, feisty, plants. These should help you while you’re out there. Wrapped as best as they could be, he offered three different types of plants. The Cabbage, Tentacula, and Mandrake. It was difficult explaining to Professor Garlick why he needed this material. Given his previous history with potioneering, he did look suspicious. But he opted to be your out of class tutor. He worked tirelessly to provide whatever he could for you to succeed in your missions.

He didn’t understand why you had to be the one to help every Sue, Jim, and Stanley that asked. But he respected that you were so willing and giving. He knew there was something different about you the moment you walked into the Great Hall, but he never expected such a burden on your shoulders.

He didn’t realize it until you came back from Honeydukes days after he’d asked for the Billywig Stings. He hadn’t seen you in classes, but somehow you were doing well. But when you’d given him the stings, he noticed you were shaken. When he asked, you had openly told him a fraction of your adventure with Jackdaw. He remembered wanting to comfort you, but he didn’t know you well enough to offer a hand of comfort. But the more he saw you leaving the castle grounds and even the safety of Hogsmeade, the more he deduced that you were off having more of your little adventures.

Each time he saw you, he would offer an ‘extra’ potion. It’s what brought you both closer the more he thought about it. Usually he could call on anyone to talk to, but he valued the time he could stand and speak freely about whatever could take your mind of the burden you carried. But it was never enough.

“Thank you Garreth. These will be helpful. I know it’s not ideal to watch a friend ‘go off to battle,’” you’d said this with a goofy tone, but immediately straightened at his unusual blank expression, “But it is something I have to do. For myself. For my friends. For the wizarding world, not to sound to dramatic.” He watched as you put the last of the potions and plants away for safe keeping.

“I, and trust me, I of all people understand taking a risk for the betterment of the wizarding world. It’s where I concoct my best ideas. But there is surely a difference between a student and a qualified adult?” His brows furrowed in desperation, “I’m sure you’re more than competent, but why does it have to be you? Right now, you should have the freedom to make mistakes when they don’t matter. Right now, you should be worried about how you look on a date or something. This-“ his lips pursed together as he tried to think of the best way to tell you what he thought, “this is absolute madness.” His arms were extended by his side as he finished, having previously moved around to emphasize his point.

You had taken the burden with stride. There was no point in denying what needed to be done, especially when authorities hadn’t managed to do anything since the beginning. You’d often come back needing mending and cleaning, but thanks to Garreths potions, there was no bruising or pain. But he was left seeing the scars of your ventures.

“It can be madness, but-“ Seeing the way your face tried to find a reason, a seemingly valid reason for your suffering.

“But nothing. I care about you. So much it really hurts sometimes. I hate seeing you work yourself to the bone for people who will never truly appreciate how much you’re giving up!” His face was slowly turning red while his eyes watered. He couldn’t even look at you. His usual gaze meeting yours, he could only look to your feet.

“Garreth, I know there is a lot I am missing. But I promise you, when all of this is over, we will make up for lost time. Any way you’d like. We can go on dates. Fight for the millionth time. Make a mistake and ask for forgiveness. But this is just something that must be done. For myself. For you.” You placed a hand onto his cheek, feeling his warmth and even the jittery mess he was inside.

It took him a moment of trying to blink away tears and look into your eyes. His hand covered yours and he turned his face to place a kiss on your palm. “I’ll hold you to that.”

[actually-mentally-ill]

when im being asked a question, but i was busy daydreaming about __ x y/n

[justheretop0st]

Ok but this hurts, don’t call me out like this